


To Serve Those in Power

by Writer_Apprentice



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Face-Fucking, Facials, Gay, Gay Robots, Gay Sex, Giant Robots, M/M, Masturbation, Mechaphilia, Mutual Masturbation, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rape Fantasy, Robot Sex, Robots, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Skull Fucking, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6754234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Apprentice/pseuds/Writer_Apprentice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Impactor always gets hot and hard after battles, so he's looking for a good mech to vent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Serve Those in Power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crusader1080](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crusader1080/gifts).



> So I have my reservations over whether or not to upload this. Let's be honest, this is probably the dirtiest thing I have ever written in my life. Internally, I am having a crisis right now. I have never written something like this before. Smut fics usually don't cross my mind.
> 
> This fic is fucking sin condensed into words. I actually enjoyed writing this, holy shit.
> 
> I like to think of myself as a behaved person. But then... then I make... THIS and I feel like such a hypocrite lol.
> 
> Read it and review if you want. Just put me out of my misery.

Springer couldn't tear his optics away from Impactor's twitching spike. It pulsed with a yellow glow from lines of biolights that ran down the Wrecker’s impressive length. The lines were straight and narrow, similar to Impactor’s own personality. The one-servo mech liked things a bit more direct, and action made more of an impression than words ever will.

Springer’s own spike, which was exposed as well, was dwarfed in every aspect as it stood at half-mast in front of Impactor’s. The green felt his cheeks flush at his pitiful display and was ponder over the idea of hiding his spike.

Impactor, on the other hand, was more than aware of the attention he was attracting, and he displayed himself proudly. He brought this thick spike closer to Springer’s body with a thrust of his hips.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Impactor asked, a cocky smirk spreading on his lips.

A moment of silence passed before Springer managed to bring his optics to face Impactor's.

"It's bigger than I imagined," he stated.

The spike out measured Springer's longest digit and could take up the width of two of them put together.

Impactor's grin widened at those words. He slipped a servo down to the base of his spike and wrapped around its length. Giving it a few strokes, Impactor’s engines purred with anticipation.

"It'll look bigger when you’re on your knees and in front of it," Impactor said. He placed his amputated arm on Springer's shoulder and firmly pushed the green mech downwards. "Now be a good soldier and get down.”

Springer followed without objection, but the look in his optics betrayed his obedience. Uncertainty flashed for the briefest moment, but Impactor’s sharp optics picked up on it.

"I promise you it won't hurt," Impactor reassured the other, his voice deceptively calm. "Now open up."

Springer steeled himself and slowly brought his lips closer to the spike's head until it pressed against his unopened mouth. The heat that radiated from Impactor’s spike was fierce, he could practically feel it with his glossa still behind his lips. Every twitch and throb the spike made warned Springer of Impactor's growing impatience.

Not wanting to tempt fate, the green mech allowed the rigid length to slip through his trembling lips. The girth alone forced Springer to widen his jaws to the point he could feel his hinges pull from the effort. Regardless, he forced the spike deeper into his mouth in an effort to please his superior. The green mech was glad he had some oral lubricant to make the passage easier. Though monstrous in size, having the spike in his mouth send shivers of pleasure coursing through Springer’s frame. It appeared that he would be capable of managing it.

Then the spike’s tip struck the back of his mouth, causing Springer to jerk back as if it had bitten him. With his mouth free of the spike, Springer released a cough before he looking down to see his progress.

The first half of Impactor’s spike was coated with lubricant, giving it an attractive sheen as it reflected the lights of Impactor’s private quarters. The bottom half, much to Springer’s dismay, remained parched of lubricants. The mech standing over him was far from pleased. Without warning a servo slipped behind Springer’s helm and tightened into a threatening grip.

"Look, I've been dying for a good frag all cycle. Wrecking Decepticons gets me going, and I need to vent, but I can't frag just anyone without someone getting all huffy," Impactor snarled, pulling Springer's head closer to his groin. "So stop complaining. You knew what you signed up for."

Springer opened his mouth to protest, but Impactor took the opportunity and forced his spike deep into Springer's throat. The green mech erupted into a flurry of gags as he struggled furiously against Impactor, but the purple-orange mech had him in an unyielding iron grip. Impactor’s digits dug into Springer's helm as he shoved his spike deeper into the mech's mouth.

"Oh frag, you're tight," Impactor groaned loudly, bending his head back as he relished the feel of Springer’s throat wrapped tight around his rock hard spike. "Told you it be a lot bigger."

Springer stared up at Impactor with optics narrowed in discomfort. The blue lights had flared up from panic, and fluids pooled in the corner as his throat burned in objection to the foreign object. Springer’s servos clung onto Impactor’s hips and desperately tried to push the mech away. Impactor barely budged as he had his pedes firmly planted on the floor with the aide of his weigth.

Something wicked must have possessed Impactor as he watched Springer fruitlessly struggle against his strength. His optics glazed over with a feral gloss before he proceeded to rock his hips. A grunt would escape Impactor with every thrust he gave. With every retreat, the purple-orange mech would double his efforts and drive his spike to violate every depth of Springer’s mouth. His spike was practically dripping with the oral fluids that richly coated his length.

"Slag, don’t you look good with my spike down your throat," Impactor chuckled darkly. "Bet you’ve done this before, you slut. You just can't help yourself but. Be. A. Toy!"

Impactor brutally slammed into Impactor with every word he snarled out through clenched denta. Springer produced alarmed cries, but they were muffled from the spike that made sure no one but Impactor could hear him. Springer gagged heavily when Impactor’s spike struck the back of his throat again, causing the green mech to expel out a fresh wave of oral lubricants. With the spike plugging up his mouth, the lubricants remained inside.

Seemingly satisfied, Impactor released his hold on the back of Springer’s helm and moved his servo the front where he proceeded to roughly push the green mech away from him. Springer felt the spike vacate his mouth, leaving his mouth feeling unnaturally large and empty. Bent over and coughing furiously, the oral lubricants spilled out of his mouth and ran down his neck. Springer managed a few shuddering breaths to try and calm himself, but his cooling fans whined with strain. His frame felt like it was burning up, and the pulse of his spark was nearly thunderous. His jaws ached and the hinges throbbed with pain from the abused it was dealt with. There was no strength left for Springer to close it, leaving him slack-jawed.

Impactor, on the other, appeared impressed by the sight. He leaned back with helm cocked to one side as if appraising a fresh kill. Springer looked thoroughly beaten into submission with his arms hanging limply at his side. The various dents that decorated the mech’s helm were a good indication of Impactor’s terrifying power, and his stiff spike bore every evidence of this fact. The lubricants that now coated Impactor’s entire spike dribbled down its length. Some of it managed to find itself flowing viscously down the Wrecker’s thick thighs.

If only he has set up a hidden camera, Impactor would have enjoyed the scene till the day he offlined.

“What’s the matter? Jaw a little tired?” Impactor finally spoke.

He approached the vulnerable Springer with a few heavy steps. The green Wrecker made no moves to distance himself from his superior. Impactor snaked a servo under Spinger’s chin and forced the green mech to look at him. The smirk on Impactor’s lips grew when he saw the defeat in the other’s optics. It was about time the mech recognized who was in charge around here.

His spike twitched and biolights flashed without arousal. It was tempting to mercilessly pound into Springer’s mouth and be done with it, but Impactor wanted to wring out as much fun. Looming over Springer, Impactor narrowed his optics. He stuck a thick digit into the green mech’s mouth and pressed it against a cheek, causing it to stretch.

“Hm… maybe I should rip out that jaw of yours,” Impactor pondered darkly. “Just like I did with that ‘Con.”

Impactor’s humor was as black as they come, and he has no shortage of material. The battles he led exhilarated him. The feel of hot energon spraying his frame and dripping into every crevice sent his spark racing. The screaming was like music to his audios as it teased him to a high, wetting his carnal appetite. And there was nothing that could compare to experiencing a frame thrash as he held it down and took a life away before it sputtered a few pointless struggles.

He was always so hard after a battle, and so eager to seek a harder frag.

“Maybe not,” Impactor chuckled. “I still want you functioning, soldier. I can’t rough you up too much.”

His servo left Springer’s mouth and returned to Impactor’s side. The green mech managed to recover enough energy to close his mouth and gaze up at his superior.

“Besides, it looks like you haven’t had a chance to enjoy yourself,” Impactor said as he stared at Springer’s spike, which was standing stiff and tall. “I can help with that.”

Springer’s optics flashed with excitement as Impactor got on his knees and brought his servo to the green mech’s spike. With only the tips of his digits, Impactor ghosted them over Springer’s length from the bottom to the top. A trembling moan and found its way from Springer’s mouth, and Impactor grinned in response. The purple-orange mech leaned forward till his mouth hovered over the side of Springer’s helm.

“You like that don’t you?” Impactor spoke, his voice barely above a husky whisper.

His digits continued to do their work as they meandered down Springer’s spike, causing it to twitch and the mech to moan louder.

“You’ve waited a long time, and now you’re desperate for release,” Impactor continued.

Springer nodded in return with a whimper escaping his lips. His servos had balled into tight fists with his digits marring the floor in the process.

“Good, ‘cause you’ve earned it,” Impactor said and he stood up.

His servo now wrapped his own spike and pumped furiously over Springer. The green mech was doing the same to his own spike as he watched Impactor with anticipation.

“Hope you’re ready for this,” Impactor grunted between huffs.

“I’m more than ready,” Springer panted out as he leaned back in preparation. He opened his mouth wide and allowed his glossa to hang.

“F-frag! Here I come!” Impactor announced.

The Wrecker bellowed once the first spurt of hot transfluid shot right into Springer’s waiting mouth. Like a dam finally collapsing, Impactor’s spike pumped one shot after another without pause. Springer could feel the hot fluid run down his face and chassis, and it wasn’t long till he climaxed in similar fashion. His own transfluids shot straight into the air before raining back on him.

Impactor grunted his satisfaction as he watched Springer become covered in sticky transfluids. He never stopped pumping until he felt his spike become flaccid in his hold. A few drops clung stubbornly to his head, and some of it got on his servo. He patiently watched Springer slowly coming down from his high before coming closer and sticking out his dripping servo.

“Clean it up, soldier,” Impactor ordered.

Springer crawled forward in earnest, and his glossa made quick work of the mess as they rolled and twisted over every inch. Without being told to, the green mech continued on to Impactor’s spike until there was nothing left. Impactor, with breath labored, gave himself a moment before straightening his stance and finding a surface to lean again.

“So... is it everything you hoped for?” Impactor asked a still messy Springer.

“That and more,” the green mech praised, a satisfied smile on his lips. He continued to lap up the mess that still remained on his frame.

“Good, ‘cause this is going to be a regular thing. You better be ready and willing,” Impactor grunted. “I got a private washrack you can use, so get yourself cleaned up. We got ‘Cons to kill in a deca-cycle, and I won’t have you slacking off before then.”

“Yes, sir!” Springer sounded, flashing an enthusiastic smile at his superior.

There was no greater honor than serving those in power, and Springer was ecstatic to find a mech that would exercise that.

**Author's Note:**

> I might die of shame.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it!


End file.
